


Compunction

by FanboyAsylum



Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Captain America: The Winter Soldier Spoilers, Comedy, Drama, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, Humor, M/M, Maybe - Freeform, Pre-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Romance, Work In Progress, a bit OOC, idk - Freeform, write more Steve/Rumlow fics and this wouldn't be happening
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-05-27
Updated: 2016-05-26
Packaged: 2018-01-26 19:45:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,909
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1700291
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FanboyAsylum/pseuds/FanboyAsylum
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>com·punc·tion<br/>noun<br/>A feeling of guilt or moral scruple that follows the doing of something bad.</p><p>~</p><p>Rumlow used to think that order only comes from pain, but can it come from love too?</p><p>Not that he's in love.</p><p>Nope. He's definitely not in love with Steve Rogers.</p><p>Uh... Hail Hydra?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Meeting

Brock manages to wait until Fury is a bit more distracted to glace lazily towards the clock, not earning himself a scowl and irritated reprimand this time. He’s been in the man’s office for almost an hour, can’t Fury just stop acting like he’s reading this shit off of a teleprompter and get to the point?

Brock holds out for a few more minutes, waiting until he was sure he absolutely could not take any more of this before making the brash choice to interrupt Fury. “With all due respect, Director, I’m due for a debriefing with STRIKE in twenty minutes, and I don’t quite understand your point.” He said, making sure to be just a bit too respectful so Fury would know he was subtly taunting him.

Fury just stared at him with that expression that had Brock 100% convinced that the man was totally dead inside before speaking once more. “I was just getting to my point, Agent Rumlow. You won’t be leading this afternoon’s debriefing.”

Brock stared at Fury with a raised eyebrow for a long moment. “... Okay. Am I being sent on a different mission?” He asked.

Fury smiled at that, Brock knew it all too well, that little sadistic smile that lets you know that you’re fucked. “No. You’re being sent on the same mission. Just not as Captain. You’re being downgraded to Field Specialist.”

There was an even longer pause after Fury had spoke, his words not yet properly seeping into Brock’s brain.

“I’m sorry... what?” Brock said finally in response, almost completely baffled, though he would never admit it if you asked him about it in hindsight. “I’m the Captain, I can’t just be downgraded. If I’m being downgraded, who’s being promoted-”

Brock could barely finish his sentence before a blonde man burst through the door of Fury’s office, causing Brock to glance at him briefly. He quickly snapped his head back to look behind him, however, staring at the man with a bewildered expression.

He instantly recognized him. Steve Rogers, Captain America, The Star Spangled Man with a Plan, and whatever the hell else you wanted to call him. Brock was admittedly surprised to see him, partly because he had no idea what he was doing at the Triskelion when he was last heard of in New York and partly because he didn’t realize how… attractive he was. Attractive? Gorgeous? Stunning? Sexy? Pretty, even? Whatever. The point is, it had been decades since Brock had ever gotten whiplash taking a second look at anybody. Captain America seemed to often have that effect on people, however.  
“I’m really sorry that I’m late, sir. I was having trouble getting the the new suit on, lots of new zippers and buttons to work around…” Steve said with a bit of a nervous smile, speaking quickly while his breaths came out slightly faster than usual. “... And the left wing elevator was being repaired, so I had to take the stairs… Normally forty-three flights wouldn’t leave me winded like this, but this suit sure does get hot after a while-”

“Don’t worry about it, Captain Rogers. You’re right on time, actually.” Fury said, his sadistic smile turning into a satisfied smirk as he studied Brock’s reaction. “Agent Rumlow, meet Captain Rogers. You’ll be his second in command from now on.”

Steve stepped forward, pausing when he caught sight of Brock’s face. He stared at him for a bit longer than deemed appropriate before clearing his throat and reaching out for a handshake. “Pleased to meet you, Agent Rumlow. I look forward to working with you.” Steve smiled brightly, his light blush clearly noticeable as it spread across his cheeks.

Okay, add cute to the list of adjectives to describe Steve Rogers. Annoyingly cute, actually. Maybe even adorable, if he wasn’t stealing his position.

Brock stared at Steve dumbfoundedly for a few moments more before turning back to Fury. “You’re kidding.” He deadpanned.

“Have you ever known me to kid, Agent Rumlow?” Fury asked, his smile widening by the second it seemed.

“I’ve been STRIKE Captain since before you even became director, and I’m being replaced by Captain America. On his first day. Without any formal training or conditioning.” Brock said in a flat tone, narrowing his eyes at Fury. “He’s not even a real Captain!”

“He is now.” Fury said, with what seemed to be a light chuckle. Brock blamed it on his worsening hearing, as Nick Fury never laughed and never would. “Now, like you said, you have a debriefing to attend in fifteen minutes.” The director reached into one of his desk drawers, pulling out a manila folder and handing it to Steve. “Show Captain Rogers to the debrief room, if you would.”

Steve carefully took the folder from Fury and flipped through it with a slightly confused expression. “So… you just want me to read this?”

“Oh my god…” Brock groaned and buried his head in his hand.

“Get out of my office, Rumlow.” Fury said, shaking his head with a small smirk still present on his face.

Brock huffed and stormed out of Fury’s office, muttering curses under his breath and not even bothering to check if Steve was following.

He was, unfortunately.

“Excuse me, Agent Rumlow?” Steve piped up, jogging a bit to catch up with Brock. “I apologize if we got off on the wrong foot, but I assure you that I’m more than capable to lead you and the rest of the tac-team on the field. I’ve had years of military exposure and field experience, I’m familiar with almost all modern weapons and I can use them all fully functionally, I’m fluent in German, Spanish, French-”

“Well, you’re just a fucking diamond, aren’t you?” Brock cut Steve off, stepping into the elevator.

Steve stopped talking and raised an eyebrow at Brock, stepping into the elevator with him and crossing his arms. “Excuse me?”

“Look, Cap, you aren’t leading me out on the field. You aren’t leading any of us actually.” Brock told Steve with a cocky smile, resting a hand on the blonde’s shoulder. “I’ve been working here longer than any of the still active field agents. I know what I’m doing, and I know how to lead my team. So just sit back and look as pretty as you can to keep up morale. Capisce?” He smirked at Steve and winked before stepping out of the elevator.

Brock didn’t expect the feel a strong hand on his shoulder, stopping him in his tracks and turning him around to face the blonde once more.

“No, you listen, Rumlow.” Steve said sternly with a deep frown, near seething. “I don’t know who the hell you think you are, and I don’t know where you get off thinking you can speak to your commanding officer that way. But I didn’t sleep in a bed of ice for seventy years to be told that I’m nothing eye-candy by some egotistical degenerate.” He said angrily. “You just remember that I’m the Captain. I don’t give a rat’s ass about how long you’ve been leading the tac-team, I’ve been a Captain for over seventy years. And I’m not planning on giving up that title now. So just watch the way you talk to me. Stay on my good side and I won’t demote you any further. Because I’m sure Agent Romanoff would love to be STRIKE’s new Field Specialist.” Steve said before storming off down the hall towards the debriefing room.

Brock stared at Steve as he walked away, with a slightly confused expression. Huh. So much for boy scout. Rogers was a lot more interesting than he had originally assumed. Definitely not just eye-candy. It may be more fun than he thought to get to know this guy. Brock was suddenly glad Rogers wasn’t deemed a potential threat upon being thawed out. And as long as Rogers didn’t suspect anything or cause any trouble, Brock wouldn’t be given any orders to take out or capture him.

With that thought in his head, he followed after Steve down the hall and into the conference room, his eyes glued to the blonde’s ass the whole time because, come on. He’s only human. Brock went to stand at the head of the round table, but upon receiving a dirty look from Steve, he held his hands up in surrender before going to sit down in the only empty seat left open between Natasha and Rollins. He gave them each a nod as he leaned back in the swivel chair.

Steve let out a deep breath as he set the manila folder down on the table, before looking up at the agents gathered around the table.

“Hello. I’m Steve Rogers, most of you may know me as Captain America,” The statement got the attention of the agents that were still in a state of rest because of the previous wait.

“I’ll be leading this division as your new Captain. Your previous Captain, Agent Rumlow, has returned to his previous position as Field Specialist. He will act as my second command. He’ll fill in for me as Captain if I ever become temporarily unavailable. That’s expected to happen on occasion, as I may be asked to deal with a global catastrophe, or armageddon, or whatever else my superiors think requires my full attention,” Steve said, smiling as he earned a few light chuckles from the agents, including Natasha, whom he waved to discreetly.

“While I am present however, you are all to follow Agent Rumlow’s commands, those of which can only be overridden by myself. I think you all understand the dynamics of a team captain, so we’ll move on to the mission at hand.” Steve said before beginning to file through the papers of the debriefing and read them.

In that moment, Natasha leaned a bit closer to Rumlow so he would be able to hear her low whisper. “I know what you’re thinking, Rumlow, and I’m going to tell you right now, stop thinking it.”

Brock looked over at Natasha with a small smile. “I have no idea what you’re talking about, Romanoff.” He replied, shaking his head.

Natasha rolled her eyes at him, subtly motioning over to Steve. “I think you know exactly what I’m talking about.” She said. “Leave Steve alone. I know you like a challenge and all that, but trust me when I tell you, he is not, nor will he ever be interested you.”

“And why on Earth do you think I’m going after Rogers?” Brock asked, raising an eyebrow at Natasha as his smile widened.

“Because I’m not stupid and I know you. You’re a player.” Natasha replied. “I know you think he’s hot and you want to get him in bed, but that’s all you want from him.”

Brock pretended to look scandalized, staring at Natasha with his mouth slightly agape before nudging Rollins. “Jack, did you hear what Romanoff just said to me?” He asked in a hushed tone. “She told me that I’m a player and I only want to get into Cap’s pants! Isn’t that the most ridiculous accusation you’ve ever heard in your life?”

Rollins just stared at Brock with a vastly unimpressed expression, shaking his head. Traitor. He was ogling Rogers too.

Brock scoffed before crossing his arms. “Oh, fuck off. Don’t act like you’d actually want to take that hot piece of ass to dinner after giving him a good dicking.” Brock said, elbowing Rollins with a grin. Rollins only rubbed his palm over his face with an exasperated sigh.

“I don’t know what it is, but I swear there’s something in the water supply that’s causing men to devolve back into cavemen.” Natasha said, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Listen, be nice to Steve. Don’t make me do some shit to you that’s going to get me deported.” She looked back up at Brock with a glare. “And the first time he tells you no, that he’s not interested, take that for an answer. Don’t keep bugging him.”

“Roger that, Romanoff. I’ll be a perfect gentlemen.” Brock replied, giving Natasha a salute and confident grin.

“Good. Because I’ll be watching.” She told him in a threatening tone before turning back to Steve at the front of the room.

It was about ten minutes before Steve had dismissed the agents and gave orders to gear up and meet at the Quinjet on the roof. As the majority of the agents filed out of the conference room, Rumlow approached Steve, giving the blonde a small half smile when he turned away. Really, it should be scary how easily angered Rogers was, considering the fact that he could probably cripple Brock for life with one arm tied behind his back, but with a face like that, he could only view Steve’s temper as cute.

“Got a moment, Cap?” Brock asked casually, hooking his thumbs through his belt. Steve didn’t even look at him when he responded, neatly gathering the papers from the debriefing and placing them back into the folder.

“No, I don’t actually. I doubt you were actually listening, but I’ve got fifteen minutes to gear up, along with making sure everybody else is properly prepared for the mission.” Steve replied, holding the folder to his chest and making his way towards the door.

Brock's smile widened a bit as he followed Steve, resting a hand on his shoulder. "Why don't I help you with that? It'll be done in half the time." He offered. Steve shook his head as he continued walking, heading for the communal area where the lockers were located.

"No thank you, Agent Rumlow. I can handle it myself." Steve replied opening the door to the large room where a few agents were already finishing up on their preparations.

Brock rolled his eyes, making sure Steve's back was turned when he did. Feisty and stubborn, what a package Rogers was. Still, under different circumstances those traits would be unbelievably hot to him. To ensure that those particular circumstances wouldn't remain only hypothetical, however, Brock knew that he would have to apologize.

With a rueful sigh, Brock followed Steve over to where he had began to remove various items from his locker, some of them weapons and others tech equipment.

"Listen Cap, I'm... Sorry about what I said in the elevator earlier." Brock forced the words out and tried to make them seem genuine. He wasn't really sorry. He had meant what he said and he didn't care if he hurt Rogers's feelings, at least he didn’t care enough to apologize. It became a bit easier to apologize though when Steve turned around and stared at him with an expression that surprisingly, dispelled Brock's previous notion that Rogers really just wanted to cut him. Steve just looked curious, and actually interested in what Brock had to say.

"I was just a little sore from the news, I guess." Brock told Steve with a sheepish shrug. "I've been working with this team for as long as I can remember. They're a talented bunch, and they need good leadership. I can't say that I'm ecstatic about not being the one to lead them anymore, but I'm at least glad Fury chose you to replace me. I haven't seen much of you outside of some old war documentaries, but I guess they don't call you a living legend for nothing. I'm sure you're more than capable for this position and I know the team is in good hands." Brock finished with a charming smile, giving Steve a light pat of encouragement on the arm. And all of that wasn't complete bullshit. Brock knew that if Rogers could lead an entire platoon in a world war and manage to bring the vast majority of them out alive, he could handle a team of only ten operatives.

The little speech earned Brock a warm smile from Steve, and damn, wasn't that a sight for sore eyes. "Thank you, Agent Rumlow. That means a whole lot coming from you." Steve said before frowning a bit. "And I apologize for the way spoke to you. I believe that what I said may have been a bit unnecessary." The warm smile returned almost as quickly as it went. "I'm sure working with you will be a great learning experience for the both of us. I look forward to it."

Brock matched Steve's smile with an even wider one as he nodded. "I agree. It'll certainly be interesting, Captain.”

Steve’s smile returned as he nodded. “Ten minutes. Have you gotten all of your gear together?” He asked before shutting the door of his locker.

“Yeah, I’m good. Geared up before the debriefing.” Brock replied, noticing a loose buckle on Steve’s tactical belt.

“Might want to fix that.” He said as he reached forward and snapped the buckle back into place, brushing his hand against Steve’s hip briefly. Brock couldn’t help but chuckle as Steve flinched in surprise at the feeling of his fingers against the material of his suit. The blonde cleared his throat and gave Brock a timid laugh in return. “Thanks.” He said.  
Brock allowed a comfortable silence to pass between the two of them between giving Steve a quick once over and speaking up again. “This new suit looks good on you.” He said, smiling a bit as he leaned against one of the lockers.

Steve looked back at Brock with a confused expression, a light blush spreading over his cheeks. “Uh… it does?” He asked.

Brock nodded moving a bit closer to examine the suit better. “Yeah, it does. It’s refreshing to see you out of the stars and stripes. I think darker colors suit you better.”

“If I’m perfectly being honest, I agree.” Steve sighed and smiled “Unfortunately, that’s not what people expect of me. They don’t expect to see Captain America in tactical gear, toting guns. They expect to see him in bright red, white, and blue, making cheesy patriotic one-liners.”

“Well then, fuck what people expect. Who cares?” Brock replied with a shrug. “You can’t be Captain America all the time.”

Steve glanced up at Brock after the comment he made, pausing before smiling contentedly. “No. I guess I can’t.” He agreed softly.

Shit. Did he say something sweet? Don’t be sweet, Brock, be mysterious. Alluring.

"You fill it out real nice too." Brock said as he made a somewhat subtle glance at Steve's backside, just obvious enough for the soldier to catch.

Steve's face reddened almost instantly upon hearing the comment, staring at Brock with a questioning gaze. "I'm sorry?"

Jeez, you'd think this kid would be used to getting passes by now. Brock simply shrugged at Steve's inquiry. "It's just a little tighter than what we see in the documentaries and newsreels."

Steve paused and looked down at the suit for a moment before speaking again. "Do you think it's... Inappropriate?" He asked with a frown.

"No, no, no," Brock responded shaking his head. "It's good that the suit isn't as bulky. It's easier to move around in. Don't even worry about it."

Steve nodded, although he didn't seem all that convinced. However, he chose not to add to the conversation, instead he just looked at the clock on the other side of the room before turning to leave the communal area. “We’re up in five minutes. We should get going.” He said.

Brock nodded as he leaned up off of the lockers, hesitating as he watched Steve walk away.

He could tell Rogers wouldn’t be an easy lay, hell, getting a Great White Shark in bed with him would be a hell of a lot easier. Brock wasn't known for being patient, but he could wait until Steve warmed up to him a bit to make his move. He couldn't describe the feeling, but Brock was a little more determined to win this one over. He knew nothing would come of this, not that he actually wanted to be more than Rogers's occasional fuck-buddy. The feelings were exclusively sexual and Brock knew he would get bored of Steve eventually. Still, he could enjoy the sensation while it lasted.

"Hey Cap?" Brock called to the soldier, causing him to stop at the doorway to the communal area. "What do you say you and I go out for lunch sometime?"

Steve turned back to look at Brock with a confused expression. "What?"

Brock shrugged as he stepped closer to Steve. "The food in the cafeteria here is pretty shitty, so I figured we could go one of the restaurants around here. Maybe I could introduce you to some modern cuisine?" He explained, giving the blonde soldier a slightly hopeful half smile. "How about it?"

Steve hesitated for a brief moment before smiling back and nodding in agreement. "Yeah. Yeah, I'd like that." He said. "Where?"

Brock took a few seconds to think of a couple restaurants that weren't too far from the headquarters. "You ever tried Thai food?" He smiled once Steve shook his head. "It's good. There's a Thai place not too far from here, we can walk tomorrow. My treat."

“Great.” Steve said in response. “12:30?”

Brock nodded, taking a few steps forward to meet Steve at the doorway of the room. “12:30.” He agreed. I’m looking forward to it.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Damn. I need to apologize to everybody that was following this fic. I just randomly looked in my WIP folder today and saw this, then realized that tomorrow is the 1 year anniversary of me uploading the first chapter. That's ridiculous, and pathetic, so here is the second chapter, that I started working on a year ago and never got around to finishing. Sorry for any errors, I just really needed to put this out. I hope you guys enjoy!

Yesterday's mission didn't go nearly as badly as Brock expected. Rogers held his own, even picking up slack from the few agents that had a hard time keeping up. It wasn't one of the most interesting missions a Brock had been on, just a taking down a small terrorist operations base in some isolated Russian city. But Steve alone was more than enough to keep Brock on his toes. 

 

The first thing to catch Brock off guard was after organizing a plan of attack, Rogers promptly  _ jumped off the goddamn jet without a fucking parachute _ . Of course this had caused Brock to shout and panic, seeing as how any normal human being would need to be scraped up off of the earth after doing the same thing, but Romanoff had assured him that Steve would be fine. He questioned her sanity as well and was beginning to form a theory that those aliens in New York had fucked with their brains, but he was forced to regain his composure, (as much as possible in that moment) and direct the rest of the confused and uneasy agents to the ground. However when he and the rest of the crew had landed,  _ with their parachutes and protective gear thank you very much _ , Brock saw for himself that Rogers was indeed fine, and most of the base looked like the Tazmanian devil had torn through it. 

 

Rogers was right in the middle of the melee, being attacked in waves by all of the men in the building. It seemed that no number of opponents could incapacitate him however, as he took each of them down with a deadly efficiency. The way Rogers fought was graceful and dangerous all at once. It would seem a bit like a dance routine if there was music ringing throughout the building instead of the sounds of bones snapping with grunts and howls of pain. Even so, Brock could only describe it as captivating. 'Captivating' isn't a word he would normally use to describe watching people get the shit beaten out of them, but it seemed as if everything about the good Captain captivated him. 

 

No, captivated sounds sappy. Intrigued. That's a better word.

 

Steve  _ intrigued _ Brock. He was the first genuinely interesting Brock had met in a long while and that was intriguing all in itself, just because of how plain Rogers seemed at a first glance. Sure, he's got the sexy as hell, god-like appearance, but when you got past that all you could really assume that he was a old fashioned, jingoistic, goody-goody boyscout. That's what Brock had first assumed about Steve. And that lasted about five minutes. 

 

Steve was... An enigma. Brock would need to start writing a biography for the guy to just cover what he had learned in the one to two days of knowing him. 

 

He was passionate, nobody could deny that. Everything he did, he did it to the best of his capabilities. Fighting, working, lecturing, absolutely everything. He gave every task he performed 110% of his effort and never anything short of that. Rogers never slowed down, he was like a well-oiled machine. 

 

No, scratch that. He was more like a computer. Steve wasn't stoic or unfeeling by any means, he was incredibly sensitive and expressive. Maybe a little too much. He was like a computer in the sense that everything he did, he did perfectly. It was like Rogers was just physically unable to make mistakes. 

 

And the guy was fiery as well. He had a short temper, and was a little hard to work with. In most situations, it was difficult for Steve to compromise. He had just a slight air of righteousness to him, as he carried himself like he believes that he's always right. It's a minor flaw though, and the only one Brock can actually point out at the moment. 

 

No, he doesn’t  _ like _ Rogers. Well, he doesn’t like-like him. Jesus, he sounds like a 5th grader. Brock harbors some non-platonic feelings for Steve, but at the same time, they aren’t romantic. Yeah, that sounds much better. 

 

Long story short, the mission went well, nobody died, Fury was happy, and Brock got a nice big smile from Steve before they went home for the day. 

 

Brock made his way to work the next day with a bit of a spring in his step, which surprised him. He couldn't remember the last time he was actually excited for a date. Well, it wasn’t really a  _ date _ , per se, just a friendly lunch. Hopefully if that went well, Brock could take Steve on a real date, but it would likely take more than just one or two little outings to gain some trust from him. Enough that they could actually move past being just acquaintances and coworkers.

 

Then again, there was a slight chance that for all of Brock’s hard work, there would be little to no payoff. He knew he would have to do a little coaxing, but Steve might not respond well to that. He seemed to get easily annoyed, though he didn’t show it. Brock noticed that Steve didn’t usually want to be around people for long. If he was having a conversation with someone he didn’t know all that well, he seemed tense and eager to end it. Brock never would have guessed it, but the Captain might have some social anxiety. He couldn’t help but wonder if Steve was always like that, or if that was just a product of being in a whole new time with all of his old friends long dead. It’s perfectly understandable that Steve would be reluctant to put himself out there and meet new people, but he seemed outgoing enough to get past the nervousness that came with forming new relationships. At least that’s what Brock had heard.

 

And really, Brock only had assumptions and opinions that were formed by other people than himself to go by. Like everybody else, he studied about Captain America in his high school history class. Watched newsreels, interviews, documentaries, all the works. Most of them said the same things about him. Captain Rogers was kind, outgoing, brave, energetic, fair, and overall, just perfect. Most of what was he heard before was true, but there was a lot more to Steve than just being nice. 

 

Above everything else, Rogers was unpredictable. Under different circumstances, that would wouldn’t be a problem. It would actually be a turn on. But the only way Brock was really able to get by was predicting other’s actions and exploiting weaknesses. Always being one step ahead of everybody else, that was the only way he could keep the upper hand. However, Brock was starting to think that he might not ever have the upper hand on Steve. 

 

The Captain’s dicey nature was putting Brock at a huge disadvantage. As soon as he thought he had Steve figured out, he’d be proven wrong again. If Brock tried to assume what he would do next, he’d do the exact opposite. 

 

And yeah, Brock knew that he shouldn’t be treating a relationship like he was mapping out a plan of attack, but the phrase “Love is a Battlefield” isn’t exactly untrue. He didn’t want this whole thing to end in disaster, and considering the circumstances, it very well may. Brock had to make sure he stayed on top of things. Achieving that was going to require strategic planning, and he was going up against the best strategist in the world. He was literally courting defeat. Or at least attempting to. Rogers seemed to be responding somewhat indifferently to Brock’s subtle flirtation, if he was picking up on it at all. 

 

And even considering all of that, Brock wasn’t one bit discouraged. In fact, he thought that the troubling aspects of Steve’s personality might be what was making him so attracted to the blonde. Again, Brock usually found most people predictable. Yet the only thing he could predict about Steve is that he always did whatever he thought was right. Perhaps the reason for Brock finding the soldier more interesting than anybody that he had met in a very long time was because he didn’t understand him. Brock couldn’t even attempt to find out what was going on in Rogers’ head, and as much as that unnerved him, it also fascinated him. He was definitely going to have to step out of his comfort zone for this to work. But then again, maybe that wouldn’t be so bad. It would be new, of course, but Brock was always willing to try something new. 

 

So, Brock waited very impatiently for 12:30 to roll around, and to his dismay he was too busy running errands and the like to talk to Steve very much. He had to give Fury the mission report, which took about an hour longer than it should’ve because apparently he ‘didn’t follow protocol’. Afterwards, Brock drew the short straw and had to interrogate one of the terrorists from said mission. He was hoping it would be at least a little bit interesting, but the poor bastard sang like a canary as soon as he caught sight of Brock’s stun baton. 

 

It felt like decades before the time for lunch break came, and Brock was more than ready for his “date” with Steve. Combined with a lack of sleep the night before, getting chewed out by Fury, and a certain irritability that he blamed on his increasing age, Brock was not having the best morning. He expected things to brighten up a bit when he spotted Steve waiting near the main entrance for him.

 

“Afternoon, Cap.” Brock said coolly to Steve as he approached him, holding the door open for him. “How’s your morning been? Anything fun happen?” He questioned with a half smile. 

 

Steve just shrugged and returned the smile as he walked out of the building with a thankful nod to Brock for holding the door open. “No, not really. Mostly just wandering around without a purpose. Getting lost and stuff.” He replied with a brief and quiet laugh. “How about you?” 

 

Brock let out a bit of an exaggerated sigh as he followed Steve down onto the sidewalk beside the park. “Eh. Had better days.” He replied. “I’ve had worse too, though. Things are looking up, though.” Brock said, flashing Steve a brief smirk. 

 

Steve nodded and smiled back at Brock, taking short glances at the scenery of the park. It was approaching autumn and the trees hadn’t quite started dropping their leaves yet, but they were beginning to show tints of red and orange. The warm color of the foliage was highlighted by the bright afternoon sun, but Brock could only focus on the light shining off of the golden strands of Steve’s hair. 

 

… Just because the sun would be blinding him if he looked elsewhere. No other reason. 

 

“You should cut your hair.” Brock remarked idly to Steve, shoving his hands into his pockets. “Looks a little too… conservative. Kinda like a choirboy.” 

 

“Oh. I…” Steve paused, running a hand through his steadily lengthening blonde locks just a tad bit self-consciously. “Yeah, I guess. I haven’t given it much thought.”

 

“You still look great,” Rumlow began, attempting to make sure that Steve didn’t think he was insulting him. “It’s just that the forties kind of hairstyle works a lot better with button ups and suspenders, and you seem like you’re past that point of mourning.” 

 

Steve nodded in agreement, giving Brock a grateful smile. It amazed Brock how there were a million different smiles that Steve could give people and each and every one of them looked so sweet and genuine, full of emotion. The way Steve smiled at Brock made him feel like he was actually worth something. Because Captain America always saw the good in everybody. No matter how much of a shitty person you are, he’ll bring some type of redeeming quality to the forefront and show you that there might be hope for you yet. 

 

“Thanks for the tip. I’ll make a trip to the barber soon.” Brock heard Steve say once he snapped out of his own thoughts. After a long moment of silence he was only able to smile back at the Captain, though he was sure that it didn’t look anywhere near as warm. Maybe Brock was just getting closer and closer to hitting the peak of complete desensitization. He wasn’t emotionless though. He felt happiness, sadness, anger, a whole array of different emotions, as any human should. But it was getting harder and harder to form emotional connections to people. It could be due to Brock’s persistent fear of intimacy (That he would never admit to if asked). Or maybe it was just because he didn’t feel like he could trust anybody, not in the type of world he was living in. 

 

Steve was different though. He just radiated optimism and was never anything less than incredibly kind to everybody around him.  It was a wonder how the blonde soldier had managed to live sanely in such a cynical and cold society. And the thing was, he wasn’t even delusional about it. He knew that people were cruel and fucked up nowadays. Rogers still stayed the same though. As much as he tried to adapt to the 21st century, it seemed his morality was something that would never change. 

 

Brock didn’t realize when the shallow lust for Steve had morphed into adoration, but he knew it wasn’t good. He and Steve just weren’t compatible for anything that wasn’t purely physical. Hell, it was a bad idea to get involved with one another’s personal life, period. If Steve ever found out the truth, everything would literally go to hell. And it was a very plausible possibility, Steve was just so goddamn clever. 

 

Despite knowing all of that, Brock didn’t even consider the option of leaving Steve alone and keeping a distant professional relationship. Steve really seemed like he was something special and Brock didn’t want to pass that up, especially not when his life just seemed to get duller and duller by the days. Yeah, he knew that he was being selfish. He was jeopardizing the entire organization just so he could get some tail, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. After spending years being focused on nothing but the greater good, Brock thought he deserved to be just a little selfish. 

 

He and Steve walked the rest of the way to the restaurant in relative silence, taking in the scenery of the park until Brock pointed him in the direction of the small bistro. 

 

"Here we are." Brock said with a relaxed half smile as he held the front door open and herded Steve into the restaurant. "Just two, thanks." He told the hostess, allowing her to lead himself and Steve to an empty table. Brock thanked the woman, making sure to pull out Steve’s chair for him with a charming smile. Steve just gave him a tight smile, his expression giving Brock the impression that he was trying very, very hard not to roll his eyes. Excuse him for trying to be a gentleman. Whatever. It was fun seeing Rogers get annoyed anyway. 

 

“Thanks.” Steve said politely as Brock sat down in the seat across from him. The blonde picked up his menu almost immediately, purposely restricting Brock’s view of his face.

 

Brock couldn’t help but smile and shake his head. This kid was just too cute. Brock hadn’t seen Steve pout yet, but he had a feeling it would make him look even more like a puppy. 

 

“Order anything you want, it’s on me.” Brock told Steve, picking up his own menu and flipping through it absentmindedly. He’d been to this place dozens of times before and he usually always got the same dish. He only received a hum in acknowledgement from Steve, which was surprising. Brock had expected an argument over splitting the bill, which happens on all first dates really, no matter if it’s a real date or not. But Steve didn’t protest a bit, staying relatively silent behind the menu concealing his face. 

 

“Come on, Rogers. What’s the problem now? You’re not still upset about yesterday, are you?” Brock asked with an amused smile. “I apologized, didn’t I? I took you out to a nice romantic lunch..” He pointed out before moving the long candle on the side of the table closer to Steve's direct line of sight. "Look they’ve even got candles-” Brock cut his sentence short after accidentally knocking the candle over, the flame beginning to burn the tablecloth. "Shit, shit shit, shit, shit...." He repeated while trying to put the fire out, tapping on the spreading flame before just pouring some of his water over it. Brock gave Steve a sheepish smile as the blonde laughed, covering his mouth with his hand to muffle it. Smooth, Rumlow. Real fucking smooth. 

 

"They really shouldn't have flammable tablecloths here." Brock commented as he cleared his throat, covering the dark burn spot with a napkin. 

 

Steve just continued to laugh and damn, didn't that sound nice. Brock hadn't really heard Steve laugh yet, not at length. It was melodious, to say the least. And he thought Rogers’  _ smile _ was pretty.

 

Steve waited until his laughter eventually subsided before he spoke again with a faint smile. “Rumlow, be honest with me, why did you really ask me out to lunch with you?"

 

Oh, honesty. ‘Tis but thy name that is my enemy. Hopefully Rogers couldn’t detect a lie as well as he appeared to. Brock’s entire livelihood depended on it. “I told you, the cafeteria food at-” 

 

“Don’t lie to me, Rumlow.” Steve cut Brock off, giving him a slightly amused smile, as if he found it laughable that Brock thought he would be able to get away with fibbing. 

 

Damn it. So Rogers was a good lie detector. Brock didn’t visibly show any signs of nervousness, just gave a short chuckle. “I’m not lying, Cap. I honestly just wanted to have you try some modern food.”

 

“ _ Don’t  _ lie to me _. _ ” Steve repeated in a much more serious tone, staring Brock down with an intensity that would make a weaker man sweat. 

 

Brock actually hesitated before answered again, crossing his arms and giving Steve a small smirk. “Alright, I asked you out to lunch because I wanted to fuck you.” He said. “Is that what you wanted to hear?” 

 

Brock noticed Steve blushing slightly before laughed softly and shrugged. “Well, at least you’re being honest now.” 

 

And that was just another thing to add to the long list of surprises. Brock had expected Steve to sneer or throw water in his face. Nevertheless, he didn't miss a beat. 

 

“So why don’t you be honest with me now?” Brock said, smirk still present on his face. “How many dates is this going to take before you let me take you home with me?” 

 

Steve chuckled softly, and maybe a bit nervously as he stared down at the table, bowing his head a bit and rubbing his neck. “Rumlow, I’m flattered, but-”

 

Yep, that’s all Brock needed to hear. The most classic rejection line in history. Almost as cliche as "It's not me, it's you". 

 

"... I'm just not ready for that sort of thing yet." Steve finished, offering Brock a somewhat apologetic smile. 

 

Brock just nodded, his smirk not yet faltering in the slightest. "Alright then. I can wait."

 

"You can wait?" Steve raised an eyebrow at Brock's response before chuckling softly. "I don't think it would be very fair for me to string you along when there are plenty of other nice young men and/or women for you out there."

 

"Oh, it's way too late for that. I'm already smitten." Brock replied comically. "You're just going to have to deal with my constant presence until you decide to give me a chance.” 

 

Steve sighed and shrugged, the amused smile still present on his face. "Alright, suit yourself. You'll give up eventually, I'm sure." He said, taking a sip from his glass of water. 

  
‘ _ Challenge accepted _ ’, thought Rumlow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't really know If I'll have a 3rd chapter, but I will try. I just hope you guys enjoyed this.


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